Most of all, I loved the smell of the church. It was a combination of beeswax candles, incense and cherry wood; to me that smell still fills my mind and whenever I come across a church that smells similar, I find myself moved to tears.
Church was a safe place for me. I was accepted and loved. It was a nice place to go that made my week complete. I left each Sunday and watched as my parents talked excitedly about the different people they saw at church that day. Did you see Rosemary today? She is going to have that baby any day now. And what about Auntie Em? Didn’t she look well this week—I was worried about her last week.
For many of us, the story ends here. The Episcopal Church fills our senses and our hearts. And that is nice. We are glad to have that weekly sensate experience among old friends.
But pardon me for saying this, but this is a puny why. It was and is a starting place but it is just the beginning. If we are to be church, to be relevant, our why has got to be fulsome; risky, about the ways we have encountered Jesus.
It was in college that I began to understand something more, it was in college that I encountered Jesus,
I was a part of the Campus Ministry at my Catholic College. The Sisters of Charity are well known for advocating for those Jesus would have us advocate with. Our campus minister was a nun who had worked in Bolivia with farmers. Her community had been gunned down in Latin America for because of their ministry. She told us about Oscar Romero and Jesus Christ who set the people free.
One Lent, our entire campus ministry team made a promise with one another; our Lenten spiritual discipline would be to collectively write daily letters to President Botha of South Africa explaining that we were praying for all the people of South Africa and that one day Aparteid would end. Each of us committed to praying daily for the liberation from Aparteid while we took turns writing letters so that Botha would receive one letter a day through out Lent.
We talked about things that mattered deeply to us from the Bible to Faith to feminism to economic policy to the death penalty. And we argued. The way that college students do.
It was later that spring that our campus ministry held a conference Social Justice. We invited a variety of speakers and it was there, in the midst of this conference that stepped beyond church, and beyond religion that I met Jesus. I looked at Jesus square in the face.
We had just finished celebrating the Triduum on campus. I had sung for Easter Mass on campus and had gone to Maundy Thursday and Good Friday at an Episcopal Church. The story of Jesus was still in my mind as I met him.
He was an African American man who was poor and lived in North Carolina. He had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and was arrested for the murder of a white college student in the early 70’s. He had sat on death row for 13 years innocent. He was down to his last appeal when Project Innocence met him and took on his case. His eyes were haunted, and he was angry. He was using his anger to find his voice now and to talk about the ways our justice system is stacked against the poor and people of color.
And there he was—Jesus. Before my very eyes. The story of the crucifixion and the resurrection was made REAL for me. The crucifixion happens every day in our world—do we see it? The resurrection takes places at the blink of an eye—do we gaze into empty caves in our world to notice it?
Church wasn’t just some nice place to go on Sunday morning; faith was more real than that.
My parents would later tell me that I had succumbed to liberal hogwash. In turn I told them that it wasn’t about being liberal or conservative—it was about being a Christian and seeing Jesus in the world right now. It’s about advocating for those that Jesus would have advocated with.
My adventures as a Christian have been immense; from meeting that former death row prisoner to working with homeless, to developing friendships with other children from the family of Abraham (Muslims and Jews) to being inspired by 80 years and taught by 6 year olds. To year after year of being transformed by prayer, Eucharist and living out my baptismal covenant in the world, to celebrating and praying just as my ancestors have for generations.
I am Christian and I love Science. I love Jesus, the Bible and Darwin.
I am a Christian because love is more powerful than any empire, violence or even death. My life given over to Christ is beyond any wealth or happiness that the world could provide.
I share with you my why because I want to invite you to think about your own why. Beyond how lovely Sunday morning is or how much you love St Cyril’s by Sea, I invite you to ask WHY.
Why am I a Christian?
Pray about it. Write it down. Share it.
George
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